


Chipping Stone

by Gaffsie



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Divorce, Dysfunctional Family, Episode: s04e15 Outcast, Family, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 02:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaffsie/pseuds/Gaffsie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Having someone who understands is a great blessing for ourselves. Being someone who understands is a great blessing to others."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chipping Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Category: Friendship  
> Prompt: Freestyle

John didn’t know it, but Patrick wasn’t the only Sheppard Nancy had a good relationship with. 

The truth was that she was closer to David than his father; she’d just never told John. Whatever some of her girlfriends implied it wasn’t because there was anything there that needed hiding, and she didn’t think for a second that John would jump to any such conclusions either. It was just her and David’s little secret, that’s all, and with all the secrets John kept from her and his family it didn’t feel more than right that there was some information _he_ wasn’t privy to.

In the beginning it was their shared concern for John who brought them together, but the more time they spent together, the more they discovered that they had in common; silly stuff, like both of them being Wizards fans, as well as the surprising revelation that they held matching political beliefs. Nancy hadn’t expected that, not with the way John talked about him. She'd expected David to be a stuffed shirt and a bore, but that didn't turn out to be true at all. Starting to spend more time with him felt natural.

She’d always been an avid tennis player, whereas both John and Patrick were golfers, and in Dave she finally found a tennis partner who she actually enjoyed spending time with on as well as off the court. She was admittedly great at schmoozing, but she wasn’t interested in making tennis yet another networking opportunity. 

Most of all it was nice having someone who understood what is what like caring for someone who served in war zones. All the friends she’d made since college had husbands and boyfriends with nice sedentary careers where the biggest risks they faced were getting ulcers from too much coffee and stress. John, on the other hand, could be called out for missions he couldn’t tell her about at a moment’s notice and then show up again weeks later, looking weary and bruised and years older. David understood the way no one else she knew did. 

~*~  
The call came at noon. Some general, whose name she immediately forgot in the face of the news he gave her, telling her that her husband was missing in action.

Nancy had carefully avoided giving much thought to how she'd handle The Call, but in the back of her head she'd always assumed that she'd feel numb. 

She didn't feel numb. She felt _shattered_.

She finished the call and carefully closed her phone, and when she looked up she was still huddled in a corner of the the dining room at the Wyndham Virginia Crossings, surrounded by people chit-chatting over their choices from the lunch buffet, all of them completely oblivious to the fact that halfway around the world, her husband was all alone in some godforsaken stretch of desert, maybe injured, maybe worse.

She couldn't bear it.

Taking a deep breath and collecting herself as well as she could, she strode over to her table, making sure to keep her strides even and confident. 

“I'm sorry,” she said to her group, “but something came up.” She collected her briefcase from its spot on her chair. “It looks like I'll miss the seminar on teamwork this afternoon. Give Gary my regards.”

She could see Peter smirking at her, but for once his transparent power plays didn't bother her. She had more important matters to worry about than making herself look like the most devoted employee at the firm. Let Peter have this – she was twice the lawyer he'd ever be anyway.

She walked up the two flights of stairs to her room in a daze. John, gone, maybe forever. She suddenly felt like she'd explode if she didn't get to talk it out with someone, but who? Her mother, who was completely charmed by John, just like all women who ever met him, but who'd still warned her against marrying a military man? Karen, who no doubt would offer some awkward platitude before changing the subject to work? No. That was not what she needed right now.

She picked up the phone from her pocket and dialled the number even before she'd made a conscious decision to do so. She swiped her key card and let herself in, listening to the signals go by. 

She'd just put down her briefcase by the desk when David picked up.

“Hello?” David sounded wary but polite. No wonder; he was still at the office and Nancy had called him on his private cellphone.

“John's missing in action,” she said.

There was silence.

“Oh, Nance,” he finally said.

“I suppose I should have known this day would come.”

“I'm pretty sure that goes for all of us,” Dave said. “Do you know what happened?”

“Only that his helicopter was shot down somewhere in Iraq and that they're still searching for it. They didn't tell me anything else.”

“That could be a good thing,” David offered. “He could still be alive.”

Nancy sighed. “I hope you're right.”

“Hey,” David said. “You know John. My brother's got more lives than a cat.”

“That's the one thing that's keeping me going right now.” She could feel that she was dangerously close to tears. Her voice was taking on that choked, squeaky quality that she _hated_ , but it was okay; the only one who'd know was Dave, and he wouldn't judge her for it. He'd understand; it was his brother who was out there too, and he did care about him, no matter what delusions John might be working under when it came to him.

“How are you holding up?” David asked, concern softening his voice. “Do you want me to come over to your place? I have a meeting in fifteen minutes, but I can cancel on it. Dad can handle it without me.”

“I'm fine,” Nancy said, and now the tears were falling freely. She furiously wiped her eyes with her sleeve and sat down heavily on the bed. “I'll _be_ fine, and I'm not at home – I'm at some stupid fucking retreat out in the woods, learning about teamwork and _mindfulness_. John might be dead, but I'm fine.”

David was silent for a while, but then he spoke, sounding a little choked up himself. “You know, sometimes I hate him for what he puts us through.”

Nancy choked back a gasp, and David swore.

“Fuck, now _I'm_ crying. John better be safe, because when he comes back I'll kick his ass.”

“No, you won't,” Nancy said, smiling through the tears.

“No, I won't. But it's a nice thought, isn't it?”

They talked for another hour or so, David only pausing long enough to tell his secretary to cancel his plans for the afternoon, and when she finally hung up on him, Nancy really did feel better. Her chest was still churning with anger and fear, but she didn't feel like she'd break under the weight of it any more.

David had been right – John's luck had lasted. A week later he'd been found, a little worse for wear but still alive. The same couldn't be said for his crew members: In the end, John was the only survivor. The Air Force sent him home to recuperate, a medal richer and a couple of friends poorer. Apparently as far as the Air Force saw it, that was a fair trade.

Nancy was no shrink, but it didn't take a medical degree to see that John was suffering from an obvious case of survivor's guilt. She tried to talk to him, but she didn't have a clue of what to say to make it any better, and John was all too good at playing the game; he knew exactly what to say to downplay his own pain. 

John had done his best to avoid any interaction with his family since he came back from Iraq, but he couldn't avoid the family dinner on Dave's 30th birthday.

“He's your _brother_ ,” Nancy said, and there must still be some semblance of family loyalty left in him, because it didn't take any more prodding to put him in a dress shirt and tie. He looked awkward and gawky, as he always did when he wore a suit. Loath as she was to admit it, John looked more like himself in his uniform.

To begin with everything went well. John greeted Dave warmly, giving him a hearty slap on the shoulder, which was as close as he'd ever get to giving his brother a hug, and he and Patrick were remarkably civil with each other.

John had to politely decline a welcome drink because of the painkillers he was still on, but not even that was enough to rile up his father, even if he did narrow his eyes at John meaningfully.

The first two courses went well. Nancy and Dave were doing most of the heavy lifting when it came to conversation, but John and Patrick were nodding in all the right places and occasionally saying enough not to appear boorish. Once again Nancy was struck by how different the Sheppards were from her own family. Growing up she'd often felt embarrassed by the sometimes public fights, but becoming a Sheppard had made her look back on her childhood with nostalgia. At least her family didn't bury their emotions and let them fester for _years_ , turning every family function into a minefield of hidden triggers and resentment. 

Nancy should have known the peace couldn't last. During dessert, she made the mistake of mentioning a job offer she'd recently been given.

“It's with the FBI. The pay is not nearly as good as at the firm, but I could accomplish so much more there.”

“Government positions aren't all bad,” Patrick said. “The trick is to not let them use you.”

He wasn't even looking at John when he said it, but Nancy could see John stiffen in his seat nonetheless. 

“Implying something?” he asked sweetly.

“I'm sure dad didn't mean anything by it,” Dave hurried to say, but neither Patrick nor John were paying any attention to him, glaring at each other over the dinner table as they were.

“I'm not implying a thing,” Patrick said. “I'm proud over Nancy. It's not often young people want to make a difference.”

“What would you call what I'm doing?” John asked evenly.

“Throwing your life away.” To Nancy, Patrick looked like nothing more than a grieving old man in that moment. 

She and Dave had debated even telling him about John being MIA. He did it best to hide it, but his health was not the best. His blood pressure was through the roof, and even after he'd had his first heart attack in his 50s he'd refused to retire. But his mind was still sharp, and in the end they'd agreed that there would be little point in hiding anything from him. Even if he didn't use any of his contacts in the US military to learn the truth, he knew Dave and Nancy well enough to pick up on their worry. 

Predictably, he'd reacted by withdrawing. Privately Nancy was convinced that the reason John and Patrick didn't see eye to eye was that they were too alike. Neither of them knew the meaning of the word 'compromise', and though she knew that Patrick loved John dearly, like John, he was too stubborn to ever tell him that. She also knew that he didn't hate John for joining the military: he hated the military for taking John away from him.

John's mouth tightened. “I'm helping people.”

“You're _killing_ people.”

David caught Nancy's eyes just then. He looked about as uncomfortable as she felt.

John smiled joylessly. “You know, some would call me war hero.”

“There's nothing heroic about war,” Patrick spat. “You're off playing Top Gun while this company needs you, while your _wife_ needs you.” _While he needs you_ , Nancy thought.

John got up from his chair. “Well, I would hate for the shareholders to find out you're breaking bread with a murderer, dad.“

He nodded courtly in David's direction. “Happy birthday, Dave.” Looking at Nancy, he added, “You can take the car. I'll walk.”

“Don't be ridiculous, it's a ten mile walk!” Patrick exclaimed.

“It's a nice night,” John said, and then he left.

Nancy didn't stay long either. With John gone and Patrick retreating into hurt silence none of them felt like lingering over coffee and cognac. 

She had to call a cab. True to his word, John had left the car keys on the mahogany side table in the hall, but he'd forgotten that unlike him, she'd had a cocktail and then wine with dinner. Looking out the window, she could see that it had started to rain. It was all very typically John; noble yet fundamentally misguided.

Dave, being a good host and a good friend, kept her company while she waited. 

“I'd drive you myself,” he said, “but...”

Nancy finished his sentence for him. “John was the only one who was sober.”

“Some birthday,” she said.

Dave shrugged. “What is another ruined family dinner in the grand scheme of things? If you think this was bad, you should have been here when John told us he'd joined the Air Force.”

“It's your birthday, Dave,” Nancy admonished him. Dave was a little too used to get caught between Patrick and John for her liking.

Dave smiled, and then he surprised her by giving her a quick hug. 

“I'll get over it. Tonight I'll mope, but tomorrow I have a date with Victoria, and I can promise you that John and dad will be the last thing on my mind then.” He waggled his eyebrows cartoonishly at her.

Nancy slapped his shoulder. “You're a child.”

Then her cab arrived and she only had time to call out a hurried “have fun tomorrow!” before she was out the door, jogging to the car to avoid the rain.

She came home before John. She was watching _Late Night with Conan O'Brien_ when John finally walked through the door, shamefaced and shivering from the cold and the rain. Even his hair looked flat and pathetic.

“You're an idiot,” she informed him, and thrust a mug with hot tea in his hands; herbal, which he hated, but she was feeling petty at the moment.

“I know,” he said, “and I'm sorry.”

Twelve months later, Nancy was at a point where she looked back at that night with something akin to wistfulness. At least John had talked to her then. Now, after flying a couple of top-secret missions god-knows-where, and coming home more quiet and tight-lipped than ever, she could hardly recognize the dorky and affable man she'd once married. She didn't know what to do – nothing she said or did seemed to make a difference, and she worried about John constantly.

She'd avoided talking to Dave about it. He had enough on his plate, worrying about the business and Patrick's deteriorating health. She didn't want to add to that burden.

Dave, who was neither stupid nor one for beating around the bush finally confronted her.

They had been playing tennis and were taking a short water break when he looked seriously at her and asked, “how are things with you and John, really?”

Nancy took a last swig of water from her bottle and threw it off-court. 

“Honestly?” She brushed her sweaty hair out of her eyes with an irritated sigh. “He's hurting, and I don't know what to do to make it better,” she admitted.

“You're hurting too,” Dave said. 

“Yes. Because he is.” 

She kicked the tennis net post savagely. Predictably, it made her foot hurt, but that was fine. It gave her something else to focus on besides the pain in her heart. “He's doing a noble thing, protecting his country, but I'm not noble, Dave. I don't give a fuck about this war, all I want is to get my husband back.”

Dave frowned. “You shouldn't have to be noble,” he said. “He chose the Air Force. You didn't.”

“You're saying I should leave him.”

“No, that's what _you're_ saying. I'm saying that there only seem to be one person fighting for this marriage, and that's you.”

“I can't just leave him when he's like this. It's 'for better for worse', remember?”

David looked at her with pity. “It's never going to get better. He's chosen the Air Force over his family again and again. That's where his loyalties lie. He doesn't care that it's killing him. He doesn't care that it's killing _you_.”

“I still love him. I just wish-”

“Nancy, you've spent the last _year_ trying to help him. You can't help someone who won't help himself.” 

“I know,” she said. She did. She just hadn't wanted to admit it to herself.

David walked over to her side of the net and pulled her into a hug.“Dad and I will be there for you,” he whispered against her hair. “And John will understand. He's never found a cause he couldn't martyr himself over.”

~*~

It had been ugly. John didn't cry or scream or throw things, but then he didn't need to; she just had to look at the defeated slump of his shoulders and pain-filled eyes to see how much he was hurting. He couldn't hide a damn thing, and it broke her heart having to do this to the man she loved, but she just couldn't live like this any more. _Wouldn't_ live like this any more. She deserved better than that.

“I'm sorry,” she said as she watched him pack his bag, hugging herself. She felt cold despite the sweatshirt she was wearing.

“You did your best,” John said. “I'm the one who fucked up.” He zipped up the military issue tote bag and hefted it over his shoulder. “I'm shipping out in two weeks. Afghanistan. I'll stay in a hotel until then. You can keep my stuff.”

And then he was gone. 

That first night, Nancy watched bad Lifetime movies and cried and felt like the most useless cliché of a newly divorced woman in the world and hating herself for it. The second night, she went out for drinks with Amanda and Karen. The third night, she had dinner with Dave and Patrick. Patrick patted her hand and told her that John was an idiot, and Dave kept the vodka tonics coming at a steady pace. The fourth night, she felt fine. Still hurting, but calm and collected; a woman in charge of her own destiny.

~*~

It was Dave who introduced her to Grant. By accident, admittedly, but he still liked bringing it up no matter how many times Nancy told him that she still wouldn't make him the maid of honor at their eventual wedding.

Grant was the brother of Dave's girlfriend Becca. Dave and Becca didn't last more than a couple of months (“a new record!” Dave had ruefully joked), but somehow meeting Grant led to a coffee-date, which led to a dinner-date, which led to something more. The whole thing had taken Nancy by surprise, which she was self-aware enough to admit was probably why it worked. After the divorce she'd promised herself to never go through all that heartbreak again, but her attraction to Grant had sneaked up on her. With John it had been like being hit by lightning, with Grant it was like slipping into a comfortable pair of shoes. And as long as she never _ever_ told Grant that, they would be fine.

Even so, Grant still looked at Nancy's friendship with the Sheppards with suspicion. Nancy didn't fault him for it; it probably did look strange that she was on such friendly terms with her ex-husband's family. 

When Patrick was in the hospital, Nancy visited him. Grant stayed at home. When Patrick passed away, he comforted her as the nice live-in boyfriend he was, but he refused to go to the funeral with her. Which honestly didn't bother her. She suspected that John would be there, and Grant had issues with him. Their first meeting had been awkward enough.

She drove to the house early, wanting to make sure that David was holding out okay. He'd taken his father's death hard, and he'd been running himself ragged trying to take care of the business and organize the funeral at the same time. Nancy had helped where she could, but these days her job with Homeland Security took up most of her time.

Dave looked calm and collected, and even took the time to compliment her on her dress.

“Grant's not coming?” He asked. 

“A little bird whispered that John might come, so he decided to take the Phoenix case instead.”

“Smart man,” Dave said. 

She was talking with one of the Sheppard Ltd. lawyers when Dave walked past her. 

“Showtime,” he muttered, and when Nancy followed his eye-line she saw a man on the front lawn who could only be John, looking small and out of place in his dark suit. Hovering next to him was a big man with dreadlocks, which surprised Nancy. She knew John was bi, but last time she checked being an Air Force officer didn't exactly gel with turning up to social functions with a boyfriend in tow.

“Good luck,” she said to Dave, and then she returned to her conversation with Mr. Green. She'd get her chance to talk to John later. 

The End


End file.
